


Shh.

by sarinoxious



Series: Torture Shorts [6]
Category: Septic egos, jacksepticeye, jse egos - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Scythe, Second person POV, anti threatens you with a scythe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarinoxious/pseuds/sarinoxious
Summary: Anti threatens you with a scythe.
Series: Torture Shorts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437172
Kudos: 2





	Shh.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as He presses the blade of His scythe to your throat. He’s a good arms-length away, but the pressure on the blade is as sharp as ever. You try to swallow, carefully and quietly, and can barely suppress a whimper as the blade nicks the tender skin of your neck.

His teeth gleam in the scarce light of the dusky room as His lips curl into a grim sneer. “What was that, pet?” A quick flick of His wrists, and the blade of the scythe is turned, the pointy end now poking into the soft skin of your lower jaw. The tiniest jerk of His hand would be enough to cut your tongue out of your mouth.

You instinctively raise your chin in precaution, but the merciless blade effortlessly follows. You wouldn’t even dare thinking about speaking now - you can already feel a drop of blood running down your throat. You try to look at Him, try to show Him how sorry you are with your eyes alone, but your eyes can’t focus on Him, and you’re forced to stare at a spot on the ceiling instead.

Right as your thoughts start to wander - your creativity running wild with the origin story behind that stain - He moves. The blurry outline of His head comes closer and closer to you, and you can feel the blade that’s pressed against your chin wobble slightly as He readjusts His grip. His fingers curl around your chin, and the blade is finally removed - a quick swivel and the scythe is at His side, the blade looking as dangerous as ever with its scarlet outline of your blood. Your chin is forced down, the sudden motion catching you by surprise, you’re not ready to face His gaze yet-

But face it you will. Toxic green eyes in a dark night’s sky. You want to blink, you want to look away, to tear your chin out of His grip, but you’re entirely frozen, forced to bend and twist to His will, to satisfy His every wish. And His wish…?

His wish is to see you writhe.


End file.
